


Reconstruction

by DarkShadeless



Series: Long live the Emperor (whether he likes it or not) [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Imperial Intelligence, Keeper in all his take-no-druk glory, Keeper's very complicated ex-relationship with Jadus, Sith being Sith, blink and you miss it identity issues, sith and the empire, the general expectation of some people to know everything about everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 16:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19088935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: It’s a dreary day on Dromund Kaas when the former Minister of Intelligence is invited to attend his Emperor.Then again, most days are dreary on this planet.





	Reconstruction

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope I did Keeper justice. Enjoy!

 

 

The Emperor’s seat of power is nothing as trivial as a mere palace. No _that_ might actually be less than a fiscal nightmare and _we can’t have that_ , can we?

Though the view is, admittedly, breath-taking.

Even Keeper has to admit that much.

The walls behind the Emperor’s throne are crafted from transparisteel, end to end, revealing the blue-green curve of Dromund Kaas against the darkness of space. Spectacular.

If ones taste runs towards such things, anyhow.

For him the entire station brings a sour taste to his tongue, bitter as his cynical thoughts upon his reactivation. To see the lone figure of his new master look out over their core world, bright against the backdrop, does little to disarm the tooth-edged caution that has slithered through the undertow of his emotions since he was summoned.

Alone.

The Wrath has always been a variable harder to quantify than he liked. Before his ascension he passed ImpInt by almost completely and after, in the years he has served, Keeper hasn’t been able to pin him down on agenda or motivation past suspected loyalty to their late Emperor. Even that is no certainty.

By all accounts Vitiate catered to his desire for revenge against his former master, Darth Baras. Outside of that…

With the surety of years in office Keeper had been convinced this new plaything of their Emperor would reveal its nature in time. To his frustration that hadn’t proved true but by then this loose end was of little concern to him, no matter how highly in the hierarchy of the Sith it may be placed.

Add to that the notorious volatility of his ilk and navigating whatever plot he has fallen into here is guesswork at best.

You never truly know what the leaders of their Empire are up to. What better example than the tattered remains of his own division could there be?

They were supposed to impose order upon a chaotic reality and look where that got them.

Keeper stops at the foot of the steps, not matter how much it grates. It has been some time since he had to look up at a Sith. He hasn’t missed the feeling.

His Emperor takes his time acknowledging him.

When he is about ready to grind his teeth, not that he has anything better to do these days than wait around, their lord and master turns towards him ever so slightly.

“Leave us.”

What few Imperial Guards litter the hall obey at once. As one they start to file out of the throne room, leaving it even more empty than it was before.

Emperor Sar, a name that had barely even made it into his dossier before his ascension, makes no move to take a seat. Instead, their ruler uncrosses his arms behind his back to wave his guest up.

After a moment’s hesitation Keeper bends to the unspoken command.

No matter his jaded outlook on the current state of their Empire in general and the Sith (in any state) in particular, it almost feels like sacrilege to set foot on the steps of the Imperial throne. It’s just a seat, nothing but a chair and yet…

Keeper reaches the apex of the staircase and has to force himself not to falter as he walks past it.

“My lord.”

“Minister.”

 _Not anymore._ Keeper doesn’t correct the assumption. _Am I going to watch you look at a planet all day, or will you tell me what you want?_

“If I may ask, to what do I owe this honor?”

The former Wrath makes a soft sound Keeper only catches because he is well versed in conversation with those who wear full-body armor. “You’re a blunt one, aren’t you?”

He hasn’t grovelled for a Sith since before he had the more than questionable pleasure of serving Darth Jadus. He is not about to start now. “I prefer efficiency in all things.”

“What a coincidence. So do I.” His Emperor turns at last but not to him. His gaze sweeps over the vast emptiness of his throne room. “This entire station,” he mutters, almost absently, “is a waste of space. I have half a mind to donate it to you. The cloaking device is an energy sink without compare but I’m sure ImpInt could do something with that kind of technology.”

ImpInt. The reminder turns Keeper’s stomach somewhat. “Imperial Intelligence has been disbanded.”

“And a greater mistake no Sith has ever made. For the record, I include every incessant struggle for dominance in that assessment that is even now draining our Empire of direly needed manpower.”   

Keeper has to take a moment to recalibrate his expectations of their conversation somewhat. The next words he says might be one of the few sentences he has spoken in years he doesn’t think through before he allows them to pass his lips. “You have some nerve calling me blunt, my lord.”

Even with any urge to flinch worn out of him by sheer necessity he almost does it anyway when his Emperor’s laugh rings through the empty throne room. The mechanical undertone scrapes at his nerves.

 

_An hour ago, the Minister of Intelligence dropped to his knees and wept before me. You would do so, too, if not for fear of being humiliated._

Damn Jadus to the lowest of all hells and all his compatriots with him. “You want me to rebuild Intelligence.”

After all they have taken upon themselves to serve the Empire, with less than no reward or thanks to show for it, after failing in their task so completely… but how much of that was owed to sabotage? Even he cannot tell.

There are no words for how tired Keeper has grown of the endless games he used to navigate around. And yet… he’s still bitter about having been pushed out the way he was, cut off from the agents he watched over from one moment to the next, all of them scattered every which way without the support their programming might require. If he had a chance here to assist just a few of his people-

But that way lies madness. Doesn’t it?

“Ideally.” His Emperor’s attention lies square on him now. It holds an intangible weight Keeper would like to dismiss as superstition if he had the luxury, reminiscent of the claustrophobic pressure Jadus used to be surrounded by.

There had been very real reasons as to why he had tried to keep his agents’ exposure to their Head of Imperial Intelligence to a minimum.

“But let me be candid. I _will_ drag what is left of your former institution from wherever my subordinates have shuffled its shards off to and if I have to carve those remnants from their hide, I will do that too. Imperial Intelligence _will_ be reinstated. The only question that remains is whether or not you will lead it.”

“I see.” Keeper has never been a coward, so he does not look away from the expressionless blank slate of his Emperor’s face when he asks the pertinent question. “And if I refuse?”

There’s a pause, during which he can do little but stare at the glowing red line bisecting the former Wrath’s mask and hold on to his composure, the way he always has. Holo vids don’t quite capture how that detail is shaped like a drop of blood.

Jadus was wrong. Fear of humiliation ceased to be what propped up his fortitude ages ago.

Finally, the Emperor tilts his head to the side the faintest bit. “Then you refuse.”

Keeper waits for the conclusion of that. In vain as it soon turns out. “That’s it? You would just let me walk out of here?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

For a hundred reasons, obsession and pride being the least of them, never mind _op sec_. Keeper himself has disappeared people for less. “And you expect me to believe that.”

“No.” With a swirl of robes the Sith turns and stalks back to the window. He folds his arms behind his back again in a near perfect parade rest. “I expect you to believe I want my Intelligence division to be lead by someone who has as little motivation to resent me as possible. What will it be, Minister? Will you serve the Empire once more? Will you serve me?”

 

 

Keeper gets all the way back to the surface and the outskirts of Kaas City before he stops and buries his face in his hands.

That rat bastard isn't even going to try and stop him is he? He'll make him live not with having fled or being pushed out but _walking away._

He'll wake every morning for the rest of his life, knowing he left all he wanted to escape behind... right alongside his duties and his agents, too. Every single one.

Keeper spends the longest half hour of his tanked career standing in the rain and contemplating where that leaves him.

Damn every single Sith who ever existed.

The hike back to the shuttle is no better than it was when he was going in the other direction. Three miles aren't near enough to figure out how to take back a resignation for a job that wasn’t even his anymore.

 

* * *

 

"You owe me fifty credits, apprentice."

"... I was so _sure_."

"What a person's heart desires and what they decide they need to do isn’t always in accordance, Jaesa. Don't let your expectations blind you."

"Yes, master."

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Honeypot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128571) by [MercuryPilgrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryPilgrim/pseuds/MercuryPilgrim)




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